Slave World

by Johnny Stone

  I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to yell, I wanted to scream, I wanted to fight back in some small and insignificant way, but I didn’t. I knew it wouldn’t do any good anyway.

  “Quite an impressive record you have, Miss Margo Winters. In addition to all the combat retrievals you made, you also have 164 confirmed kills as an interceptor pilot. I knew you were good, but not that good. That makes you an ace several times over, doesn’t it?” Burke was reading my old Fleet service record. How did he get access to that, it’s classified information?

  “Yeah, guess I am. Doesn’t mean jack shit now, does it, Sir?” Burke frowned back at me.

  “I’m going to give you a little piece of survival info, the surest way to be disciplined is by having a sassy mouth and showing disrespect, especially towards your Master and Mistress. Don’t do it again, for your own sake.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I replied meekly, remembering my place in the food chain. His eyes; I could get lost in them for days.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Huh?”

  “I asked you how you’re feeling. Does it hurt? I can get some pain meds if you need them.”

  You could say I was at a loss for words. How am I feeling? I’m a damn horse-girl slave now, how am I supposed to feel? “Okay, I guess I’ll live.” There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Burke stood, slipping the computer into the pocket of his shorts.

  “Sorry, brain fart. I guess that was a stupid question, wasn’t it?” His tough guy facade seemed to waiver ever so slightly, and the awkward silence returned.

  “No, Sir, it wasn’t stupid and…well, thank you for asking.”

  Burke nervously cleared his throat. “Okay, I guess it’s back to business then. We have to make a stop before getting you fitted for your gear. Sorry for the rush, I’d ah… I would have liked to have given you a few days to get acclimated to everything that’s happened, but the luxury of time is something neither one of us has right now. You’re going to be presented to your Mistress as a birthday present in a few days from what I’ve been told.”

  “I look forward to it, Sir.” The acceptance of my newfound fate, manifested with a tone of total subservience.

  I followed Burke through the impressive building that was to be my new home from here on out. It was well decorated and had a pleasant smell reminding me more of an expensive hotel than slave quarters. We passed several other ponies along the way, a male and female brute that towered above the both of us like goliaths of bulging muscle. They stopped as we approached, heads lowered, pressing up against the wall so Burke could pass unhindered. They were dressed in the same lightweight black mesh tops and bottoms I’d seen earlier that left nothing to the imagination of what lay beneath. I did a gape-mouth double take at the size of the lengthy bulge between the male’s legs. Holy shit… What the hell does he do with that thing, pole-vault?

  Burke led me into a room where two male staff members, dressed in one-piece gray coveralls, were playing cards at a small table. They were surrounded by an assortment of unknown machinery and the room smelled hot, reminding me of the chemically tainted air of what? They both stood when we entered.

  “Good evening, Mr. Burke, is this the new pony we’ve been expecting?” Burke nodded. “Okay then, we’ll get her branded and back to you in no time at all,” one of the men said cheerfully. Branded? I hope that doesn’t mean what I think it does?

  “Fine, just hurry it up. I’m going down to talk to Connell; be back in a few minutes.”

  The two men waited for Burke to leave, giving one another matching evil grins that sent a shiver down my spine. One of them grabbed my forearm, leading me to the far wall where I was briskly spun about, and my wrist cuffs snapped loudly into a bracket above my head. My feet were secured together and locked in place to a floor clamp shortly thereafter. The other man moved the magnetic slide bracket holding my wrists downward, forcing me to bend at the waist, pushing my ass up and out at an uncomfortable angle. I was starting to get a really bad feeling about this.

  “I can truthfully say this isn’t going to be much fun for you, pony.” The caressing touch of a strange hand fondled one of my ass cheeks, which by the way had the well-rounded, heart-shaped appearance I’d always longed for. “Real shame to scar up such a pretty little ass, but orders are orders, nothing personal. Better gag her, Frank, we can’t have her screaming and upsetting the others.”

  Oh no, this isn’t good at all.

  “Right.” A rubber mouthpiece was pushed between my lips, and Frank moved out of sight behind me. I heard metal on metal. “It looks good and hot, that should do it.”

  “Sure does. Here, I’ll do it.” I recognized the smell now; it reminded me of a welding iron.

  The warm dew of terror seeped from my skin, and I started to shake. I knew I shouldn’t look, but I did anyway. He held the insulated handle of a metal rod with a brand on the end, red-hot and lightly smoking. I tried to move but couldn’t; my ass started to wiggle helplessly like a chicken with its head on the chopping block. The whole situation reminded me of some crude medieval torture scene from an old video movie.

  He leered down at me, and my ass grew warm under the branding iron hovering only inches away. “This is really going to hurt. Most pass out from the pain in a few seconds. What do you think? I give her about four.”

  “Naw, she looks weak. I don’t even give her that long.” My eyes went wide, shaking my head, silently begging them not to hurt me, as a gurgling whine began to form in the back of my throat. Unexpectedly, they both broke into a cackling barrage of near hysterical laughter.

  “You see the look on her face? I think she was about ready to piss all over herself. I love this job!”

  “Are you two assholes done yet?” Burke was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, and he looked really pissed off. “What the hell’s wrong with you two shitbirds anyway? You really get off pulling this kind of crap with the ponies, don’t you?”

  “Sorry, Mr. Burke, we have to have a bit of fun sometimes, don’t we? No harm done, right?” Both men continued to laugh at my gut wrenching terror.

  “Just hurry up and get on with it, the fitter’s ready for her and I don’t have time to play fuck-around all day.”

  “Sure thing, Mr. Burke, this won’t take long at all.”

  He tossed the smoldering brand back on the heater, pulling up a chair, while pushing a machine on wheels up behind me. I closed my eyes trying to contain the raw fear that still bubbled inside me. I hoped this was going to be better than what I’d originally thought was coming; I still had my gag in, and prayed it was no longer needed as part of the process.

  The touch of cool metal teased my right ass cheek, followed by the soft hum of the machine being turned on. He went about his task quietly, while I was ‘branded’ with laser engraved, stylistic script. It read ‘MS’ with a letter and number code beneath it ending in P18. Pony 18. The whole process was relatively painless, and lasted only several minutes.

  “There you go, Mr. Burke, all finished. Her designation has already been forwarded to Central and Port City registration.” I was moved into a standing position and released. My knees were shaking so bad, that Burke had to steady me when we left the room.

  “That was priceless! Man I love my job.” I heard behind me, followed by more dark laughter.

  “Shitheads,” Burke muttered angrily, gently pulling me along, supporting me around the waist. I clung to him no different, almost desperately, the only source of stability in my life at the moment. I started to sniffle, then tremble slightly. Burke paused, turning me to face him, gently grasping my naked hips. “Are you all right?” His voice was so soft, so sincere, so unlike the man he appeared to be. I could only give a jerking nod, unable to look up at him. “Are you sure? I can take you back to medical if-”

  “No, Sir, I’m fine.” I wasn’t though. So many emotions erupted to the surface, so many emotions held in check… I was a little girl a
gain, a little girl whose innocence had been ripped away long ago, in need of comfort. I just wanted to be held. I don’t know why I did it, or why Burke didn’t try to stop me, but my arms timidly encircled his waist, pulling against him.

  He grew stiff for a moment, unsure, hesitantly stroking my hair in what must feel like a very awkward situation to him. His warmth pressed against me, and I melted within. Everything was well and fine in the world again, while I found sanctuary either real or perceived, within the arms of a man I barely even knew.

  Burke finally broke the embrace; I would have sworn he was blushing, if men were even capable of doing something like that. “We ah… we have to go see the fitter now. He’s waiting.” I smiled weakly, nodding, as some of my fragile resolve returned.

  We eventually entered a large room near the back of the stables. The walls were covered with shelf-like cubicles and unending rows of leather outfits, harnesses, headdresses, and other gear I couldn’t make out. The strong smell of raw leather, mixed with oil, made me lightheaded. There was an old, balding man wearing a leather apron behind a half counter. He looked up expectedly when we entered.

  “Mrs. Savota’s new pony? Such a pretty little girl she is.” He stepped from around the counter with a broad fatherly grin, running his hand through my hair, scratching at the side of my head playfully like I was a dog. “Yes, you are a pretty girl, aren’t you?” His patronizing baby talk made the bile rise in the back of my throat.

  I think Burke sensed my unease, forcing his way between us. “Connell, I really need to get her geared up, if you don’t mind?” A brief look of surprise shown on the old man’s face, and he distanced himself from Burke’s imposing stare.

  “Yes, yes, of course. Bring her in the back, I can hardly wait to see how everything fits.” I followed the old man while he navigated through the containers and piles of gear scattered about, turning into a side room packed with more outlandish oddities. He motioned me to stand in place while Burke silently watched on.

  The fitter removed items from a shelf one by one, dressing me in them. He fretted and fussed over each and every piece like a mother hen, ensuring they fit properly. It wasn’t uncommon for him to remove a particular item of annoyance several times, making small adjustments, before continuing on to the next one, finally satisfied. It was all a vibrant shade of hot pink though, and very girlish looking. I don’t like pink much.

  It was hard to resist the urge to rock back and forth on the balls of my feet; my boots were very comfortable, and fit like a glove, made of supple leather that ended just below my knees. The thick soles flared out into the overall shape of a horse’s hoof, increased my overall height by several inches, while lifting my ass and giving my legs the impression of being much longer than they really were. Ironically, they made a ‘clip-clop’ noise whenever I moved. Just like a real pony.

  The soft leather body harness was of an intricate cross-thatch design that reminded me of narrow cargo webbing held together with strategically placed, interlocking metal rings. Except for the narrowing strap that ran between my legs, reappearing as nothing more than a G-string from my ass, I was left exposed from the waist down. It did have stiff leather, cup-like lifts that fit under my breasts, supporting and pushing them up, giving me a tremendous amount of buxom cleavage in the process. Wow, that’s a first, I thought admiring myself. Damn, I was starting to look like what, some sort of sexy bondage toy?

  Small white and pink tassels with a tiny bell on silver ringlets were threaded through my nipples. I didn’t even know they were pierced until then. A slim pink choker with a gemstone encrusted platinum clasp was buckled below my restraint collar, and a pair of glamorous diamond earrings in a half-moon shape with teardrop crystals adorned my ears. My hair was put into a high ponytail, and tied with a diamond-studded band. My tail was tightly wrapped at the base making it stand out neatly erect, mimicking my hairstyle.

  My mind wandered during the process, growing detached from the entire experience. It felt a little demeaning, if such an emotion was still possible for me, to have a stranger touch me in ways that I’d once considered intimate in a past life. The fitter’s hands never lingered for long where they didn’t need to be though, even when adjusting the strap that ran through my crotch, or while adjusting my breasts. I don’t know, maybe having Burke standing guard this time kept him in line. After I began to relax and just go with the flow, I actually started to enjoy it in a weird sort of way. It was the same feeling of warm contentment I got whenever I went to a spa for a day of pampering on one of those very rare occasions when my meager funds had allowed it.

  Next came my bit and bridal with a set of actual reins. The soft rubber or plastic of my bit, I couldn’t tell which, tasted a little queer at first. It instantly formed to my new teeth when I bit into it, molding around them before growing hard. It was Memory-Plast and custom fit only to me now. The cool metal rings of my head harness sent an unlikely chill racing through my body. Of course the most noticeable effect was when my enormous nipples sprang to life. They were bright pink, at least a half-inch in length, and only slightly darker than the small areola surrounding them. They seemed to pucker, growing noticeably harder whenever I looked at Burke.

  “Hold off on the blinders and mittens, I need to get her used to the weight of the saddle and walking around first. And you can take the jewelry back off; she won’t be needing it until the night of the party.” The old man shrugged, placing a pair of full-length leather arm mittens back on the shelf, followed my sparkling adornments.

  “Now for my masterpiece, Mr. Burke.” The contraption in the fitter’s hands resembled a cross between a saddle and a chair with stirrups if I had to put a name to it. “I still can’t believe she’s going to be carrying Mrs. Savota around on her back. She’s so small and…well she’s just so small and weak looking.”

  “Connell,” Burke chuckled in an off-handed manner, lighting a cigarette, leaning back against the wall. “She could snap you in half and toss you through the wall before I could stop her. I suggest you remember in the future not to judge a book by its cover.” The old man’s face noticeably paled. I couldn’t help but smile showing off my new pearly whites clamped around my bit. The fitter managed to regain some of his courage, motioning for me to go to my knees.

  “Well it’s a good thing she has restraints on then, isn’t it? And another thing, Nathan,” he growled in an annoyed, snippy manner. “I wish you wouldn’t smoke in here, it could cause an explosion despite the ventilation fans.”

  Burke cocked his head, brow raised, pulling a thin chain from around his neck with a micro-card dangling from the end of it. He swiped it through the narrow slot in my collar, which was followed by a muted beep. It split at the hinge-point, slipping from around my neck. My wrist and ankle cuffs quickly followed suit as the fitter shuffled away from me horror stricken.

  “Nathan, you’re not supposed to do that! No one can authorize a slave’s restraints being removed except Mr. Savota,” he whispered looking around. “What would happen if she tried to escape or-”

  “Or what, attacked you, this little thing? Show some backbone, Connell. Like you said, she’s so small, right? If you don’t like it then report me. I’m going outside to finish my smoke since you seem so worried about it; finish up and bring her out when you’re done.” With that Burke turned and left the room.

  I was hard pressed to contain my laughter at the fitter’s expression of furious uncertainty; Burke was messing with his head, turning the tables for a change, and I liked it. I wasn’t even thinking of escape now, I knew I wouldn’t make it far if I did try, but maybe in the back of my mind I didn’t want to escape, at least not from Nathan Burke.

  The fitter continued quietly with his task, much more reserved than he’d been a few moments ago. It felt strange having the upright saddle-thing on my back, but it did seem to fit rather well, being padded in all the right places. He checked me over one last time before taking my reins and leading me back
out front. The clip-clop sound of my boots gave me a weird, tingly feeling in the pit of stomach, which gradually slithered its way between my thighs. This entire experience definitely ranked right up there on my ‘weird shit-o-meter’, but it was a good kind of weird. Despite being a slave, I actually liked how I looked for the first time in my life, not to mention the sensation of soft leather caressing my skin, combined with its intoxicating smell, made me feel so…so naughty all of a sudden.

  Burke smiled when I was presented before him, our little joke on the fitter coming to an end. His eyes politely roamed about me, inspecting me in my leather-clad nakedness, while I grew warm under his gaze. I nervously chewed at my bit, anxious to find out if he approved of the finished product, or not. I was slowly coming to grips with all that was happening to me, made much easier by the man standing before me. Our budding relationship between Overseer and slave wasn’t normal, I could tell that much already.

  “Her restraints,” the fitter said stiffly, clearing his throat, holding them out in his hand. Burke reached for them nonchalantly, giving me an adorably cute, sidelong smirk that sent a wave of simmering moisture oozing through my pussy.

  “All right, 18, we both know it’s a well-proven fact that you aviation weenies are nothing but a bunch of slack-jawed wimps.” For the first time since meeting him, Burke seemed to have a twinkle of animated life behind his sexily, enticing eyes. “Let’s see if maybe you can prove me wrong for a change.”

  Rivalry between Fleet aviation and Fleet strike had been the thing of near legend ever since their conception and now it looked like it was time for me to prove who the better branch was yet again. Okay jarhead, now the gloves come off, I thought wistfully as the corner of my upper lip curled in a defiant sneer.